His Missed Connection

If you know me well enough, you'll know that I frequent the missed connection page of craigslist.com every morning. Heck, I even consider it part of my morning reading in addition to local Sacramento news and the Capitol Morning Report. Yes, I'm pretty hooked on it like I'm hooked on political scandals. So any-who, I LOVE stories, which is why I became a history major, and yes, I do have my bachelors in Political Science because it's more reliable for me to obtain a decent income with that than History. And, yes, money isn't everything in Violet's world, but this girl has an appetite for good food, good fun, good things, good living and she needs some sort of income for that. Back to craigslist addiction: I enjoy stories in any form but the missed connection section really reels me in. It's amazing how people can go on with life knowing their missed connection is out there. It's a bit inspirational. I LOVE the angry rants one and yes, even the romantic ones. If you want to start reading missed connections on craigslist as well, I suggest you read inspirational ones in areas other than Sacramento. Why? Because the some of the stories here are lame with short missed connection descriptions or people are using it as their live journal (hello, blogspot? xanga? wordpress? not craigslist, people. *rolls eyes*). Also, a lot of the people who post on there have no knowledge of simple English sentence structures or they have bad spelling and grammar. That bothers me. So I read LA and the Bay Area when I'm fed up with some of the Sacramento unemployed, uneducated craigslist dwellers. Nonetheless, then there are stories that really capitvates me and makes me believe in fairies and talking monkeys. Here's an example I saved. Let me know if the story sounds familiar. =)

*****

I met you at Faces back in August of 08. You were wearing a stripped grey shirt, glasses, and a bandana over your long shaggy hair. You look Native American. We were introduced, I thought you were gay. Your hands were sweaty from dancing and you were extremely drunk. Fast forward to September 2008. I ran into you at Pete's Coffee house on J st. You were wearing a beanie sans glasses. You called me a bitch because I didn't remember you. I was pissed and wanted to punch you in the face. You told me you liked my small girly hands after you knocked back a few drinks at Streets of London. I replied coldly "These hands can kill." You laughed and we parted ways. Fast forward today, Sunday April 5, 2009. I'm sitting in the study hall doing research on zoning laws of Elk Grove. I look up and there you are studying the effects of organic farming. Today you are wearing your glasses with a grey Hollister sweater. You look tired. Your hair is sporting a conservative short shaggy cut, versus the long shaggy hair I am accustomed to. This is a completely different light that I am now seeing you in. I'm too scared to let you know how I feel about you now. I want to walk over and say hi, but I'm too afraid. *****

And that's just the short version of it.

Isn't it cute? Philliam says it almost sounds like us when I read it aloud to him back in April. The only difference is that we hated one another when we meet in July, for reasons I do not want to discuss. It wasn't until October when Philliam was pissed off because I had wandered off without Mermaid during BeerFest and they couldn't keep moving until Sunny and Ariell found me. He demanded my brother for my number so he could call me to angrily shout "WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" Man, what a bitch -__- Let's just say after he obtained my number, he wouldn't stop sending me annoying mass text messages which pissed me off even more. The end. I'm off to get a second dose of missed connection.